


Sterek Snuggles

by Miss_Union_Jack_26



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 23:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10398681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Union_Jack_26/pseuds/Miss_Union_Jack_26
Summary: The Sheriff catches Stiles snoozing on the sofa with Derek. He's too tired to deal with it. Breakfast the next morning is interesting.





	1. 1

Sheriff Stilinski closed the front door as quietly as he could, almost trembling with how exhausted he was. Maybe he’d finally gotten too old to pull multiple double-shifts in a single week. Tomorrow, or rather, later today, he was going to have to thank Sheila for sending him home early. Hell, Parrish was going to have to pick him up later because he’d been too tired to risk driving himself home, so his cruiser was at the station. Deputy Camden had dropped him off. He might have to start listening to Stiles and reducing his hours a little. It was just difficult, what with them still being so understaffed. He slowly staggered into the lounge, just checking that everything was switched off and nobody had left food out on the coffee table again.

The sight that met his eyes had him instantly feeling much more alert, like only an espresso or the sound of gunshots could usually achieve. Derek Hale was fast asleep on his sofa. That on its own would have been enough to make his hand subconsciously drift closer to his service weapon, but that wasn’t all. His one and only underage teen son was sprawled over the older former murder suspect, with one of Hale’s arms wrapped firmly about his waist. As he watched, jaw hanging open in disbelief, Hale’s relaxed expression started to crumple at the edges, lips pulling into a small frown, impressive eyebrows twitching into a murderous glare. That man had some unfortunate features, however much his cheekbones and jawline might disagree. One of his feet spasmed like he was dreaming of running.

When he started growling almost low enough to be sub-vocal, it seemed to catch Stiles’ attention. Without waking up, he kissed Hale’s Henley-covered sternum before nuzzling up under his scruffy chin, mumbling nonsense in a soothing tone. It was surprisingly effective. Hale shifted onto his side, trapping Stiles between his chest and the back of the sofa, but not squashing him. He was literally shielding Stiles with his body, putting himself between the boy and any threat which might be present in the room. Stiles made a happy snuffling sound, and Hale softly kissed the top of his buzzed head.

Holy hell. Whatever was going on between them, clearly there were mutual feelings involved. He couldn’t decide whether that was better or worse than if it was just fooling around. At least he might have been able to talk some sense into his son, if that was all it was. His adrenaline rush faded almost as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him shaking in its wake, his vision blurring and blacking out for a second as he almost fell asleep on his feet. He grabbed the blanket off the back of his armchair and draped it over the two of them, cancelled the alarm Stiles had set on his phone for five minutes before he’d been due home, then stumbled his way up to bed. Breakfast was going to be very interesting. Or possibly lunch. He checked his watch again, and the hands blurred into focus just long enough for him to make out the time. 4am. Yep, definitely lunch.

* * * * * * *

It was only twenty minutes shy of noon when he finally roused. He’d managed to remove his shoes, belt, gun and badge before he’d conked out last night, and made it under the covers, but otherwise he was still dressed in his uniform. Ugh. He took a shower, then dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, making a point of putting on his gun holster before going downstairs when he remembered their guest. He checked in on the lovebirds before he went into the kitchen, switching on the stove and getting lunch started. Omelettes sounded pretty good to him right now. Besides being one of the six decent meals he knew how to make from scratch, they were one of the few nice things Stiles still let him eat. He made one for Hale as well, using four eggs. Maybe if the man put on some weight Stiles would lose interest. Okay, so he knew his son wasn’t that shallow. It was still worth a try.

When the food was ready he stuck it in the warming drawer and went to wake up the boys. He switched on the TV, intending to switch over to the channel which the game would be on in an hour, and the menu screen for a DVD came up. Monsters Inc.? Seriously? Well, at least it wasn’t The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy again. Derek really must like Stiles to be letting him pick the movie. He changed the channel to the one he wanted, turned the volume up, then went back into the kitchen to set the table. It wasn’t long before he heard the muffled sounds of his son waking up. He snickered at the cursing and panicked whispers, when they realized that he knew. They seemed to debate whether Hale should stay or go for a minute, but eventually they walked into the kitchen side by side, not quite touching anywhere except for the tips of their fingers. They weren’t quite holding hands, but it was close enough.

Stiles gave a wry smile when he saw the extra plate set out. The Sheriff had set the places so he’d be on one side of the table, Stiles would be to his left, and Derek would be to his right. As far from each other as the two could get at the small table. Derek moved to take his seat, but Stiles stopped him with a touch to his wrist. His son moved the chairs and place settings so he and Derek would be sitting next to each other, both facing him. It was a bold move. He didn’t miss the look of fond exasperation Derek shot at his son.

The three of them ate in silence. After a few minutes Stiles snorted for no apparent reason, got up, felt around behind the microwave, and handed Derek the salt and pepper he’d been hiding. “Dude, what have I told you about suffering in silence?” Derek bumped shoulders with him, ducking his head to hide a small smile.   
“Don’t call me dude.” After that it only took a few seconds for Derek to wolf down the rest of his meal. Jeez, when was the last time he’d had a decent home-cooked meal? For that matter, where was he living? He couldn’t be squatting in his burnt out ruins anymore, they’d been demolished a month ago by the city. Stiles cut his remaining omelette in half and forked it onto Derek’s plate. He ate that a little slower, so they finished almost at the same time.

The Sheriff didn’t waste any time beating around the bush. “So, Stiles. Was there something you wanted to tell me?” Stiles winced.   
“Yeah, about that. So I’m not sure about the whole gay thing, but I’m definitely at least bi.” He shrugged.   
“Yeah, I sort of got that. Not really what I was asking about.” Stiles smiled at him, warm and genuine. He hadn’t really been worried about his dad being upset about him being into guys, but it was still a relief to hear him say it.   
“With Scott spending most of his time with Allison, Derek and I have been spending a lot of time together lately. We talk about things, or play video games, or watch movies, just hanging out mostly. Sometimes we just share space together, you know? It’s nice. We get each other. I know there’s been some misunderstandings in the past, and at least one of them was my fault. I shouldn’t have let Scott talk me into lying about the second time, either. A lot was going on back then, and it was all just a mess. But things are better now. And you don’t need to be arresting anyone.” The Sheriff stared at his son. Did Stiles seriously expect him to believe that he wasn’t having sex with Derek? Stiles rolled his eyes.   
“Look dad, you know me, so I’m not going to lie. Waiting until after I turn eighteen wasn’t my idea. But it’s important to Derek, so I’m respecting his wishes. Because he’s important to me. He has his reasons, which you aren’t going to ask about because he doesn’t like talking about them. It’s enough that he’s explained them to me.” The Sheriff watched Hale’s face. He was looking at Stiles with awe and gratitude and undeniable love.   
“Okay, let’s say I buy that. I still don’t get why you accused him of murder in the first place. It’s not like you to seriously suspect someone just for looking suspicious. There was something you weren’t telling me then, and if you really want me to be okay with this, then I’m going to need to know what it was, right now.” To his surprise, Stiles actually nodded. Hale shot him a look, his hand tightening over Stiles’. Stiles shook his head subtly and rubbed a soothing thumb over his knuckles. “Okay, so you’ve heard about the Warrior gene, right? How it predisposes some people to certain behavioural responses under stressful circumstances?” The Sheriff didn’t know where Stiles was going with this, but then again, he rarely did, so he just nodded in response. “Okay. Well, Derek has a similar gene. Most of his family had it too. Scott has it, and Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. Cora and the twins, Ethan and Aidan. Jackson. Derek’s been running something of a support group for them. The gene manifests in a few different ways. People who are affected tend to have high metabolisms, above average senses of hearing and smell, above average speed and strength, a faster healing rate than most people. They’re also more prone to certain toxins, like aconite and mistletoe. Sometimes it makes their eyes look like they’re glowing. They tend to be very tactile. The main thing is, it predisposes them to serious anger management issues. Derek has it under control now, but when I first met him Laura had just died. He was having a rough time coping. When I found out about him having the gene, I made some unfair assumptions about him. That’s why I thought he was the killer, and to be fair, the killer did turn out to have the gene. The point is, I know Derek a lot better now. I’m safe with him, Dad.” The Sheriff mulled this new information over. He wasn’t the Sheriff for nothing.  
“Does this gene have anything to do with why his family was targeted six years ago?” Stiles nodded sharply, lips thin. He could see the brittle edges surrounding him. “There’s a group of people who think that anyone with the gene is a threat which shouldn’t be tolerated. Even if the person affected has never hurt anyone, even if they’re just a kid, it doesn’t usually matter to them. One of their particularly psychotic members set the fire. Peter Hale killed her in self-defence, but not before she fatally wounded him. He was the one who figured out who her accomplices were and killed them all before she got to him.” The Sheriff nodded.  
“Just to be clear, we’re talking about Kate Argent?” He saw Hale flinch and shrink back. Stiles carded a hand into his hair and pulled his head down to rest on his shoulder. Hale hid his face against the side of Stiles’ neck.  
“Yeah, that’s the one. She was crazier than a opossum on crack. She thought that people with the gene were werewolves. Seriously, she believed that wholeheartedly, she was totally delusional. It probably didn’t help that Peter made himself a crude set of metal claws which he then glued to his fingernails.” The Sheriff leaned back in his chair.  
“Huh. That would explain why they looked like animal attacks.” Stiles nodded.  
“Yep. He was pretty much as crazy as she was by that point. He made himself a false set of teeth with these huge fangs, and bit his victims with them.” The Sheriff narrowed his eyes at Stiles.   
“How exactly do you know all this?” Stiles shifted in his chair, his eyes darting to the doorway. He swallowed harshly before answering.  
“I may or may not have witnessed the big battle between him and the she-demon. Also, he may or may not have been the one stalking us through the school that time.” The Sheriff groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. His son, ladies and gentlemen.  
“How the hell are you not dead yet?” Derek finally lifted his head, just to scowl at him. Stiles smiled wryly.  
“Hell if I know.” The Sheriff turned to Hale.  
“Are you sure about this Hale? I don’t think you really know what you’re getting yourself into with this one.” Stiles gave an indignant ‘Hey!’, but Hale’s face looked like a storm cloud.  
“I know that Stiles is recklessly loyal, one of the most cunning people I’ve ever known, and overwhelmingly compassionate. He single-handedly kept Scott from hurting anyone when his gene started manifesting, even though he knew nothing about how it worked. I know that I helped everyone with their anger management, but he helped them with everything else. He made a random bunch of people into a genuine group of friends. I know he’s made my empty loft feel like a home, something I haven’t had for six years. I know that I am unbelievably lucky that he wants anything to do with me. I am grumpy, sarcastic, and rude. I snap and sneer at people. I honestly have no idea what he sees in me, but I thank my lucky stars every day that he does see it.” Stiles looked like he wanted to cry or kiss Derek senseless. Possibly both at the same time.  
“It’s you, Derek. I see you. You’re adorable when you’re grumpy, and your dry wit just shows how brilliant you really are. No matter what mistakes you make your heart is always in the right place. You only ever try to help, to protect everyone. I know you’ve had some seriously shitty luck, but you’re good Derek. That’s what I see.” Hale whimpered softly and touched his forehead to Stiles’. Stiles petted his hair and hushed him. They stayed that way for a minute, and the Sheriff decided to leave them to it. He felt like he’d accidentally spied on something intimate, a moment he shouldn’t have been witness to. He put his plate in the sink and left to sit in the lounge. His timing was perfect, the game was just about to start. Halfway in, the lovebirds finally came out of the kitchen, lips bruised and necks chafed, but their clothes not looking too rumpled. The Sheriff politely ignored their sorry state. 

Stiles had never had any interest in football, it was pretty clear he just wanted to be wherever Derek was for the moment. Derek recognised the team at least, even if he preferred baseball. Apparently football had been his dad’s favourite. Baseball he’d gotten from his mother. Their team won, Hale shyly told them about the correspondence courses he was taking to finish his marketing degree, and Stiles didn’t stop smiling contentedly the whole day. All things considered, he was counting it as a win.

* * * * * * *

It wasn’t until several months later, a little after Stiles turned seventeen, that he found out the truth about ‘the gene’. He’d been responding to a noise disturbance call on the outskirts of town, near the apartments where the homeless tended to set up camp, when it happened. It would be two days before he’d realize that it was a full moon that night. Some thing had been a fraction of a second from sinking massive fangs into his throat, when a monstrous black wolf had tackled it away from him. The wolf was soon joined by several others, and together they tore the creature apart.

Maybe he could have bought it if he’d been in the middle of the preserve, despite wolves having not been seen in the state for at least a few decades by all accounts, but he wasn’t in the preserve. He trained his gun on the black wolf, not sure whether or not the beast had saved him so it could have him for dinner itself, but the wolf froze and stared at him with intelligence in its eyes. “What are you?” One of the smaller wolves, with curly cream-coloured fur, whined pitifully. The black wolf nodded to the doorway, and its pack quickly filed out.

The big dark grey one came back after a tense few seconds with a blanket draped over its back. The black wolf crouched behind the blanket, then changed. The Sheriff had to turn his head away, fighting back a powerful wave of nausea. There was no way in hell that could be painless. When he looked back, Derek Hale was wrapping the blanket tightly around himself, and the grey wolf was gone. Derek Hale, as in the man who’d been dating his son for almost half a year now. The Sheriff briefly considered putting a bullet in him just on principle, but the man had just saved his life.

The next few days were tense as everything came out. He spent hours talking with Derek, Chris Argent, Melissa McCall, and Alan Deaton. He learnt all about werewolves, hunters, kanimas, banshees, the alpha pack, darachs, and even sparks. He re-examined all of his old cases, looking for clues that they might have been related to the supernatural in some way or other. He carried a clip of wolfsbane bullets on him at all times now, for protection against rogue omegas and as a way to heal the pack if any of them were shot by hunters. The first time Hale had smelled the wolfsbane on him, his eyes had turned to saucers and his pale skin had turned grey. It was a struggle not to burst into gales of mirth.

Stiles was miserable and withdrawn, he’d forbidden his son to have any contact with Hale for a month as punishment for keeping so many giant secrets from him. His cellphone and the key to his jeep had been confiscated, and there was a new lock on the kid’s bedroom window which got checked for signs of tampering twice a day. Still, he’d been tempted to change his mind when he’d realized that Stiles was wearing one of Hale’s Henleys to bed each night. It was always a different one, too. It didn’t seem to be helping much though, dark rings were starting to form under his eyes, and they got darker by the day. He hadn’t realized how much time those lovebirds spent just napping together until he’d put a hold on it. His resolve caved in halfway through week three, by which point Stiles resembled a zombie more than a living human.

The first thing they’d done once the ban was lifted was to hug each other so tightly that they had to alternate their breaths. Hale was scenting Stiles’ face, neck, collarbones and shoulders with butterfly kisses, all whilst making undeniably canine sounds of relief and joy and welcome back. His shaking hands and pitiful whines got the message across loud and clear. ‘I missed you so fucking much I thought I’d burst with it.’ The second thing they’d done was conk out on the couch for ten hours solid. Bedroom privileges had been revoked, whether the door was closed or open. It was another month before they earned that back.


	2. 2

Eventually everything went back to normal. Derek finished rebuilding the Hale house, the pack defended Beacon Hills from supernatural threats, Chris Argent and the Sheriff protected the pack from hunters. Stiles studied under Deaton, whilst Scott studied under Derek and ‘studied’ with Allison. By the time Stiles turned eighteen, Derek had finished his degree and the Sheriff got him deputized. Stiles got several boxes of condoms from his group of friends for his birthday, and the Sheriff got him a box too, but Stiles told him to save it for graduation. Apparently Hale wasn’t comfortable with doing some things with a high school student, and Stiles didn’t want Derek to be uncomfortable with anything they did together, so they were still waiting.   
“I mean, I’ve already waited a year and a half, what’s a few more months? I’d wait ten years if that was what he needed me to do. He’s worth it. I get the feeling sometimes that what he’s really waiting for is for me to come to my senses and realize that he’s not what I want. It’ll be okay though, because that’s never gonna happen. It’s actually pretty funny, I used to worry about the exact same thing, in the beginning. I used to think he would get tired of being with me, or finally see just how annoying I really am, something like that. When he told me he wanted to wait a bit longer, I thought maybe it had finally happened. But I asked him about it, and he made it pretty clear that he just wants to do this right, because I mean that much to him. And then he rubbed me off through my pajama pants to show me how much he still wants me.” Scott scrunched up his nose in disgust.   
“Stiles! TMI dude, that was so not cool!” Stiles just snorted his amusement.   
“Don’t even Scott, I know way more about Allison than I could ever want to thanks to you. I didn’t even go in to detail.” 

Still, graduation night didn’t go quite how Stiles thought it would. Don’t get him wrong, Derek was a fantastically attentive lover. The wolf pulled three orgasms out of him before sunrise, and Stiles was pretty sure Derek had come too at some point. He just wasn’t sure, because Derek hadn’t let him see or feel him. When Stiles had asked about it, the only answer he’d gotten was “One step at a time.” Stiles huffed.   
“Derek, this isn’t alcoholics anonymous.” But then Derek had swallowed him down, and Stiles forgot how to use words. After that, Stiles’ imagination started running a bit wild. He’d felt enough to know that Derek wasn’t small or excessively large, even if he only ever wore Under Armour. He’d done some research, and grilled Scott, but there was no evidence so far that werewolves had knots. Maybe only born wolves got them. He’d tried asking Deaton, but the man had just looked at him like he was so utterly done, so he’d dropped it. That only left Derek, and how the hell did you bring that up in normal conversation with your boyfriend? By randomly blurting it out, apparently. Derek looked like he’d been shot, and Stiles would know.   
“How did you even…?” Stiles just shrugged.   
“The internet, Derek. It’s a magical place.”


End file.
